Detextor

In the distance a melody resounds with the veil of an old broken beauty, like poison languishing in our tongues. Dead dreams glooming in lost tears whipping the flesh of my false beliefs my punishment is to catter the seven seas. Doom has blown its trumpet permanence has torn apart all eternity suffering will evermore be my mark. Pain is the path I'm willingly imprisoned, love has become a plagued hellscape. My struggles I wear with a silent pride, away where healing's out of hope. “The wounds will never heal, my hands are filled with sorrow and my days are decaying into insanity. I'm getting tired of always moving forward, how much longer will I do my wait?” original release: https://detextor.blogspot.com/2020/02/escapism.html image: https://www.pexels.com/photo/factory-chimney-smoke-221000/